Moriarty's Trench
by Deadbolted
Summary: A tale of some morally bankrupt party in which that a teenaged John Watson finds himself face-to-face with the most popular boy at school, Sherlock Holmes. HighSchoolAU Johnlock


My seventeen year old body quivered like something that was really cold: I had a fever because of that dumb fucking Jew next door. My mother told me that Dr. Shaughnessy had said that I had something that resulted from me having sex with Jews: clamidia.

I didn't know what clamidia was, but I hadn't looked at my penis in over forty-eight hours because I was afraid it had turned into a sentient clam. If it had, I was most likely going to have to battle it; and, I did not want to do that.

I rubbed my sweaty hand up and down my seventeen year old washboard abs and shivered, only to think about what the Jew had done to me while I was sleeping on the barstool in Moriarty's house.

"Hey, dickgirl," he screeched, entering the room with a half-drank bottle of cheap wine. "I wanna know if you wanna get with this."

He made a bizarre twisting movement that I could only presume was an attempt to seduce me into penetrating his butthole. I decline with a dry, "No."

The Jew looked almost offended; he dropped his wine and yelled at me. "Do you even know who I am?"

I looked him up and down and realized that I was face-to-face with the most popular boy in London Look High School for Private and Intellectual Beings. I gasped like a little girl and was immediately smeckledorfed into believing that I was in love with him.

"Are you Sherlock 'Dig Bick' Holmes?" I asked, already knowing that the answer was going to be an irrevocably sexy 'yes.'

"I am," Sherlock responded. "And if you're wondering, the rumors are true: I have a dig bick."

"How big is it?" I asked with a shudder. "Is it this big?"

I showed him a space between my hands, which was roughly the size of a small watermelon. In fact, it was such a small watermelon that one would be excessively stressed to find a watermelon of such size. Perhaps it would be more suitable to call it a small large dog – meaning a particularly small dog of a large breed; or, maybe it was the size of a large small dog – precisely the opposite of that I proposed earlier. Nay! It was approximately the length of the average catfish. Of this, I am certain.

He shook his head and grabbed his crotch. "It's as big as you want it to be, you slut."

I almost creamed at the thought of a penis that I could manipulate based on my own biases; however, I was rather skeptical, as I found it queer that such a penis could actually exist. After all, such a phallus would have to break a law of physics somewhere. Perhaps it was one of Newton's laws.

"_Each penis has an equal and opposite hole." _Comes to mind immediately, but I wasn't entirely sure that that was one of Newton's laws, or just a line from an extremely cheesy porno that I watched last week. I chose the latter.

Sherlock made a striking advance upon my body, leaving me breathless with every step that he took.

"Does this make you horny, baby?" he asked me, flashing me his beautiful man-pectorals.

I nodded in a manner that could be considered extremely salacious and began to touch myself with a carrot that I just so happened to be carrying at the time.

"No need for toys, hun," he grinned like a wolf as he advanced even farther toward me, his willing prey, "I'm all you need."

I threw the carrot from my ass and began to instead fondle my nipples while Sherlock took a seemingly endless and completely unnecessarily long time to reach my destination – a barstool that was approximately fifteen feet away from him.

"I want you to penetrate me, baby," he whispered slowly. I didn't hear him at first, so I cupped my hand around my ear and grimaced dubiously.

"I want you to penetrate me," he said once more, louder. At this time, someone had been pouring themselves a glass of milk quite loudly and in my general direction, so I once again could not hear.

I repeated the gesture.

"I want you to penetrate me!" he shouted, waving his ass in the air, near me.

Someone had turned on ridiculously bass-y rap music at the precise time he began to speak, so I once more could not make out the message that he was trying to deliver to me.

I repeated the gesture yet again, this time with more attitude.

"I WANT YOU TO PENETRATE ME!" Sherlock growled and threw his ass at my crotch, sticking the landing – and my dick directly into his butthole.

I was knocked unconscious on impact.

All the thinking about my kinky escapades got me a little roused, so I made the decision to put a little tug on the ole yankee doodle, if you catch me drift.

Whenever I opened my trousers, a wild clam erupted from their depths.

"FACE ME, HUMAN!"

_I knew this was an unwise decision. _


End file.
